


traveller and traveling ghost

by sunstained



Series: sometimes the supernatural likes to visit [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ghosts, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6186970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstained/pseuds/sunstained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there was a ghost in my room but by now it's gone and left me behind</p>
            </blockquote>





	traveller and traveling ghost

“I’ve always liked when it was dark in my room, it was just, y’know, kinda nice I guess.” You had said and I had laughed and laughed because-

“I think there's a ghost haunting my room,” I had replied. “It doesn’t like it when I turn on the light because it prefers the dark, but I think that it’s one of those lonely spirits who just want to be around someone else.”

“How do you know it's a spirit?” You asked and sure it was a good question but I was- I wasn’t happy that you asked it and I still don’t know why but.

“It’s- it just is. It’s old, I can feel it. Not like museum-old but more like- folktales and local legends. That kind of old.”

Something that’s been passed down through tenants and stragglers and stowaways but I don’t think it’s ever been on a boat before and it doesn’t want to be on one.

“Is it nice?” 

“It’s kind've like someone you really respect and they don’t always show their affection but when they do you sorta just know and it’s, like, all the more stronger ‘cause of that. ‘Cept when I turn on the lights. Then it gets upset, but not, like, violent or anything.” In the vague area of ‘friendly,’ really. It feels like it greets me when I come into my room in a way- a sort of silent acknowledgement of my existence and mine of its. It was a nice system.

“Is it a ghost from someone dying? Or, sorta like, just a natural spirit, I guess?” You hesitated, you knew how spirits or ghosts or things of that nature can get personal.

I knew, too, but it didn’t mind sharing. “It came from the, essence? No, uh, minds? Thoughts! Yeah, that’s better, It’s from the, like, thoughts of travelers and wanders and just, everyone who has a journey to be had. But- that’s not quite right. It’s, kinda from just everything going somewhere I guess. Sorry, it’s just hard to say.” I scrambled for the words but they just didn’t come- oh, wait.

“It’s like someone passing through a small town and everyone knows them, so their visits become a sort of nice surprise and they really enjoy their trips themselves. That’s what it is.” And I smiled because I had found the words and they were only a little reluctant to be found but relieved nonetheless. 

“Huh. Alright. It makes sense. It does sound like a nice spirit, though.” You said and I just- I was happy for it because it would like the praise in an only a slightly prideful, but still mostly humble way.

Your phone buzzed so you fished it out your jacket pocket and read whatever notification you got and turned to me to say, “I’ve gotta run to grab my brother and his friends, do you wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m good.” It was an offer you knew I’d decline anyway, I’ve never met your brother and he’s only heard of me in passing, so it was fine. 

You grabbed your bag while sliding from your side of the booth and turned to the door after saying, “Tell your spirit friend hi for me when you get home!”

I laughed and said, “Course I will!” while you were still weaving through the crowd. And I meant it, of course.


End file.
